


Testing the Limits

by Future_Scxrs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F, I don't wanna spoil anything in the tags, Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:51:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Future_Scxrs/pseuds/Future_Scxrs
Summary: She wants to control the world. She's already taken the Nordic countries.But there's a force to stop her, a rebellion, and out of the rebellion, could love spark?





	Testing the Limits

**Author's Note:**

> A new fic, well not new, I've been working on the prologue for months. I SWEAR I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS!
> 
>  
> 
> Names, in case anyone gets confused.  
> Astrid Marie Densen: nyo Denmark  
> Frán Ilse Steilsdóttir: nyo Iceland  
> Vera Majken Oxenstierna: nyo Sweden  
> Kaisa Lilja Väinämöinen: nyo Finland  
> Adrienne Marguerite Bonnefoy: nyo France  
> Alexandrine Antoinette Bonnefoy: aph Monaco  
> Gilbert Beilschmidt: aph Prussia  
> Alfred Franklin Jones: aph America  
> Erszébet Héderváry: aph Hungary  
> Ismeralda Julieta Inocencia Férnandez Carriedo: nyo Spain  
> Signe Lovise Thomassen: nyo Norway

As the Queen’s high heels clicked against the glass floor, Astrid glared through the strands of her straw-like blonde hair. The crystal blue walls shone traditional Norse designs over the room, and the diamond flooring radiated the glow into her eyes, which nearly blinded the young Dane. A cold chill flooded through, causing whistles to sound off of the sapphire pillars by a golden throne that sat in the very centre of the area, draped by cerulean curtains. A room fit for a Queen- as Queen Oxenstierna claimed- though it was not your typical Royalty design, and in Astrid’s opinion, looked more like the room of an Ice Lord or Lady.

It was midnight, by now all she willed for was to sleep. Five minutes ago she almost had that, until her majesty had ordered everyone to the throne room. Which meant more time in a far too tight dress- her stomach was as compressed as possible, and still she felt two sizes too large, her chest aching from an uncomfortable bind. All day, everyday she was shoved into the same outfit seemingly for no reason. In her honest opinion, the dress was atrocious. That being said, no one wore nice outfits these days, as her Royal Highness had ordered every remaining Swede, Dane, Norwegian, Finn and Icelander to wear their nation’s traditional dress.

Her majesty let out a shout, and the young worker could have sworn it shook the whole building. Truthfully, she wasn’t fully listening, as it seemed that this was happening every week and honestly the importance it held was starting to run thin for just about everyone. Everyone, of course, except for the woman who had called them all there. It pained the young Dane to say that the meetings held no sentimental value anymore, as they certainly should- these meetings were execution meetings. If anyone was to be accused of treason, there’d be one of these meetings broadcasted from the ‘castle’ to the entire nation. It truly was meant to be horrific, but it had occurred so often that it was essentially an expectation.

So, who was it this time? What for? A stupid, silly little joke made about the monarchy? Was it someone who actually deserved what was coming, or not? That question seemed silly in her mind, did anyone ever really deserve death? Astrid considered herself a pacifist, but at this point she was wondering if it was fair to hold such a label to herself. Her job was an executioner, and she had no clue how she had gotten into this position. Maybe execution wasn’t the right word- she never chopped anyone’s head off- however it was the word that her Queen used.

“You have been discovered as part of a rebellion,” Which certainly did catch her attention, there was only one rebellion within the whole city. One rebellion filled with her friends, and Astrid herself was a member of it, “Your crimes against the government and your Queen shall not go without punishment, you may serve as a primary warning. You are seen as unapologetic. You are seen as guilty. You are nothing but a traitor. Miss Densen, cease this heathen!” Then, for the first- and last- time did she see who was accused. In that very instant, she wished she hadn't, as they were taking away the most important person to her.

Signe Lovise Thomassen, a Norwegian woman of only the age of nineteen. Since early childhood, the two of them had been best friends. Still, she had a job to do, hopefully her friend would forgive her for this. That being said, she took a tight hold onto the younger’s collar, dragging her in closer to her. Breath touching her own, a shiver was sent through down the Dane’s spine. Signe was however fearless, her face just like that of a blank canvas. Somehow, the intensity of the situation was not infecting her, it was a wonder just how much she was actually feeling but not showing- a poor habit that she held. The Dane let a tear fall out of her eye, holding back a sob: Signe wasn’t supposed to die like this- at the hands of her best friend with still the world to live for.

She took a deep breath, not wanting to believe what she had to do. Harshly, brutally, she snatched the younger woman’s neck in the palm of her hand and dragged her closer. Guilt, sympathy and reluctance flashed in her eyes, and she hoped that her majesty could not see it, because only the Lord knew what would happen if she did. Like God would help her now, after all the killing. Especially this one. Astrid muttered a small apology to her friend, which she was pretty sure she couldn't hear, before outstretching her arm and throwing it sharply to her left. Cold air hit her chest, which felt bare despite the layers of clothing protecting it. Not thinking, she swung her arm further back, listening as Signe’s body shattered through the glass. She dropped her.

Hands clapping rung through the space around them. Suddenly, her chest felt heavy and full once again as she looked towards the Queen. That was about right: she'd clear her heart and feelings, only to have them topped back up as soon as she saw just how little the people around her cared. No, this time her highness did care; she cared about how long it had taken Astrid to sweep the accused of her life. She forced her hands apart, using them to hurry everyone out of the room. “Move.” She demanded, and everyone did not object. For a second, the Dane found herself questioning her peers, did they really not care for the people’s lives they took?


End file.
